


A Bouquet of Drabbles

by prairiecrow



Category: A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001), ReBoot (TV), Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Art, Blow Jobs, Dominance, Drabble Collection, M/M, Submission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 09:53:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A set of almost-drabbles (100-150 words each), based on a Tumblr meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt: "Paint Me" (Bob/Megabyte)

It wasn’t really like being touched at all: it was more like being sculpted, hard steel hands curving over and reshaping the very substance of his flesh with the heat of lust, painting him in positions he never would have imagined in a million hours. He was the medium, and the master’s message was imprinted upon him in secret hieroglyphs written all over his skin, a signature sealed with a venomous kiss.

The fact that he would never hang in a gallery didn’t lessen the extent of the craftsmanship involved.

Bob didn’t have much of a taste for classical art, but he had to admit that he found Megabyte’s style… inspiring.


	2. Prompt: "Paint Me" (Garak/Bashir)

He was a designer as well as a tailor, and like any designer he possessed a degree of skill in the visual arts. The training he’d undergone decades ago for a particular undercover mission had enhanced his natural ability, and consequently he could capture a fairly good likeness of any given person on paper. It was really a matter of following certain technical principles, no more complicated than producing a sonnet or crafting a simple tune.

But when he saw Julian’s eyes widen at the sight of his quickly sketched interpretation of slender shoulders and a narrow face and a wide hazel gaze, he knew that his technique had been lost in the significance of the message it conveyed.


	3. Prompt: "Zip Me" (Professor Hobby/Gigolo Joe)

He sat heavily on the edge of the desk in a darkened university classroom, gripping the wood tightly in both hands while he caught his breath again. “Oh, _God_ …”

A final tender lick along the still-burning length of him, prompting a shiver of pure reaction, and a hot little murmur: “Was it good?”

A shaky laugh as he reached down to run his fingertips through the mecha’s gleaming hair. “Immensely. But this place is crawling with conference-goers — we could have been caught at any moment.”

“That’s rather the point,” Joe smiled up at him with a wicked gleam in his green eyes, then began to tuck him back into his pants again with deft artificial fingers, zipping him up tight so they could face the public once more looking like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths.


End file.
